Crucify
by Samhain Feis
Summary: AU Frodo feels guilty for Gandalf death and ends up taking drastic actions. Finally finished! Now I feel accomplished.
1. Drastic Actions

Wow, this has taken me awhile to get back too. Anyway, I hope people take a liking to this. I tinkered around with this chapter, just a bit. I'm not really satisfied with it, but I guess it's good enough. Don't forget to review, I'm starved for reviews. Flames will be used to create amusmant for hours on end. Pyromaniacs of the world UNITE!!!!

Disclaimer: Don't own it, never will own it. unless I get really lucky o' course!

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Frodo looked around himself at the clearing they had found for their camp. They had just escaped from Moria and had set up here to rest before they continued towards Lothlorien. Despite his best efforts he couldn't seem to pull his thoughts away from Gandalf. He had chosen the path of Moria when the Fellowship could have gone another way. They could have stayed on Caradhas or made for Rohan instead. But no, he just had to choose Moria. It was entirely his fault. If he hadn't made that decision Gandalf wouldn't have fallen into shadow. It all seemed so hopeless now. How were they supposed to continue on without their leader? Aragorn had now taken up Gandalf's duty of guiding them on their mission, but it felt like there was an empty space looming in their company which no one could fill.  
  
Sam was preparing dinner, although no one seemed to have much of an appetite. Not even Merry and Pippin, which surely was an odd thing. Frodo leaned against an old tree trunk and tried to block all of the terrible memories flooding though his mind. His thoughts drifted back to the Shire and Bilbo. How he missed his dear old uncle! If only he could have stayed with him in Rivendell. But he had no other choice than to destroy this burden and threat to the free peoples of Middle Earth, that was the One Ring.  
  
But again, Frodo's thoughts reverted back to Gandalf. How could he have been so blind? It had been obvious that Gandalf hadn't wanted to venture this way. But it hadn't sounded like so bad of a choice back then. No, back on the slopes of the mountain where frostbite clung to their toes it had sounded like a wonderful alternative to their freezing cold surroundings. Why had they placed the burden of this decision on his shoulders? Him, without any knowledge whatsoever about the likes of Moria? It hadn't been fair.  
  
He was aroused from his thoughts by a soft voice. "Mr. Frodo, dinner's ready," said his best friend and faithful servant Sam. Forcing a smile he replied, "I'm not really that hungry, Sam." But Sam, as always, was very persistent. Eventually he got Frodo to have a bite to eat, although he mostly just pushed the food around on his plate. Guilt was gnawing at his heart.  
  
While the others lay dreaming, Frodo lie awake staring up at the stars in the midnight sky. He didn't want to succumb to sleep. All he wanted to do was get away. The more Frodo thought of what he had done the more he became worried of what he was leading his friends into. He didn't want peril to befall them, especially because of him. He didn't want to play a part in the deaths of any more of his friends. Against his will, sleep soon washed over him.  
  
_Frodo looked around. There was nothing; at least not anything he could see. It was so dark he could barely see his hands in front of his face. He started groping around for some sort of wall or anything he could hold on to, but in the end found nothing. Trying to cling to whatever little hope in him still remained, Frodo stumbled forward onto the cold, harsh ground. Where could he be? Where had everyone gone?  
  
Suddenly, in the midst of the impenetrable darkness, a faint light fought through. As the source of the light came closer, its beam grew stronger and stronger until Frodo had to shield his face with his arm to avoid being blinded by its brilliance. Once his eyes adjusted the source of the light came into view. Much to Frodo's surprise there stood Gandalf towering above him. "Gandalf! You're back!" But his excitement quickly turned to terror when Gandalf lifted him and started shouting at him in a voice Frodo could hardly believe was coming from the mouth of his once good, old friend. "How could you?! You should have known that Moria would only lead us to certain doom and early death!!", bellowed Gandalf, his voice rattling the ground. Frodo struggled to get away but it was no use. "NO!! Gandalf believe me, I didn't know! It's not my fault!" Gandalf them cast him down and withdrew his sword Glamdring. "No", screamed Frodo in anguish, "Leave me alone!" He started running back through the dark passages, but Gandalf appeared again. "No, No!" He backed up until he was finally pinned against a wall. There was no way out. He was trapped.  
_  
Frodo jolted awake when he felt someone nudge him. "Get away!!" He stumbled back only to realize that it was Aragorn who had awaken him. "Frodo, what's wrong?" Frodo wiped the cold sweat from his brow and replied. "Nothing. It was just a dream." Aragorn frowned. "Are you sure?" "Yes, yes. I'm fine." "Okay then," said Aragorn though he looked as though he wished to say something else, "It's your watch."  
  
Frodo watched Aragorn walk over to his blankets silently. That dream had shaken him up horribly. He couldn't go on like this. He had to do something. There was no way he could live with this guilt. Frodo removed Sting from its sheath and wondered away from the group. He looked at the sharp blade then at his wrists. He knew what he was going to do.  
  
The feeling of the cold metal on top of his skin sent tingles through him. His hand trembled as he grasped the hilt, holding the blade atop his arm. He sliced up the inside his arm and closed his eyes as the pain flowed through his body. Pain overwhelmed his system as he sat with the blade still limply held in one hand. '_This is what I deserve'_ He thought, though already he felt his mind becoming addled and slowing.

Again he took up Sting, this time in his other hand. It shook violently as he tried to get a firm hold on it. Blood trickled down onto the hilt of the sword as he finally managed to slice up his other arm. He watched the crimson blood slide down his arms and over his fingers, dripping to the ground. He felt giddy, and giggled slightly as time slowed and the blood drops fell slower, watched as the broke. It was amazing, he could see ever detail. The colours on his arm mixed and blurred as the crimson blood overtook the alabaster skin.

Everything began to blur together and spin in front of him as he watched the world ripple and change about him. Frodo swayed and fell back onto the ground, looking up to the stars that glittered so far above. It wasn't long before he could feel the peaceful darkness pulling him down into forgetfulness. He didn't fight it.


	2. Death's Arrival

Hey everybody! Anyone remember this fic? Haha, I can't believe how long it's taken me to get back to this. Actually I had given up on this but I my muse finally woke up and was helped by inspiration from Box Car Racer's song 'Letters to God' and the a wee bit to push me all the way, the graphic novel Death: At Death's Door(as strange as it seems if you know of this book, it gave me the idea for Frodo's scene). Anyway, I hope this is worth the read and... read away... Go on, just do it... now, I command you. IRON FIST OF DOOM!!!  
  
Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings(if it wasn't for those meddling children mumbles) nor do I own Box Car Racer... nor do I own any gum. I really want some gum. And some Hobbits. Hobbit flavored gum... Gum flavored Hobbit. Yesss preciousss.  
  
Pippin was snoring loudly and moved restlessly in his sleep. This was particularly annoying to those who slept closely to him, namely Merry and Sam. Merry had, after years of being around a sleeping Pippin adapted and now had gained the ability to sleep through these nightly antics. Sam, on the other hand, had not.  
  
Sam rolled over, away from Pippin, wondering how the lad would ever manage to find a lass willing to put up with this night after night. He groaned and sat up, unable to fall back into sleep. The embers still glowed from the fire giving Sam a wee bit of light in the clear, moonless night. His eyes fell upon Frodo's empty bed next to his and he froze inside. Looking around, he saw that Frodo was nowhere around the camp.  
  
Standing quickly, Sam looked at the trees that surrounded them in despair. 'He can't have gotten far.' He thought to himself. It was all he could do to keep himself from running haphazardly into the woods after his master and friend but he managed to control himself and walked silently over to Aragorn. "Mr. Strider, Mr. Strider wake up." Sam whispered urgently. "Mr. Frodo's gone." Aragorn opened his eyes and raised himself from the ground, his dark eyes running over the camp area in a futile search for the Hobbit.  
  
They woke the others and went out in groups searching for the missing Ringbearer. The Hobbits searched through the underbrush together. "Why would he do this? Why would he go off by himself?" Pippin bit his lower lip as he brushed aside some fern leaves. "Mr. Frodo's been thinking up something all day. I didn't like that smile he gave me earlier none. His eyes were so empty." Sam shuddered.  
  
Merry looked back at the other two Hobbits, silently pondering over his own troubled thoughts. As the moved further up through the thick underbrush, he saw a small form lying on the ground. "Frodo!" The three Hobbits ran forward, Pippin passing the Merry and Sam. As he neared Frodo he noticed that he was lying in a small pool of a dark liquid. Pip stopped dead in his tracks. "Frodo..." The quiet plea escaped his lips as he stared horrified at his kinsman.  
  
"No!" Sam sprinted past Pippin and fell to his knees at Frodo's side. He gingerly lifted the body, holding it against his chest. A calloused hand stroked through sable hair as tears began to fall upon the unmoving face of his friend. "Frodo," He called softly, forgetting formalities in his grief. "Frodo, wake up now." The warm blood was seeping through his clothing and he flinched against the feeling. "Come now, you can't leave us. Don't you leave me Frodo. Please, please come back." Sam's voice broke and his pulled Frodo's body closer to himself.  
  
------  
  
Frodo felt someone pulling him up to his feet. When he opened his eyes, a woman stood in front of him. She was tall, at least to Frodo she was, and pale as the moon with long hair the colour of darkest hours of night. Her black dress was long and tattered. Around her neck she wore a strange symbol that Frodo had never seen before. She was a woman who had taken on the pains of many, yet managed to retain the ability to comfort and shelter many more. You could see this in her kind face and deep grey eyes.  
  
She reached out her hand towards Frodo. "Come, it is time we departed." Frodo stammered an unintelligible reply. Looking down to the ground he saw himself lying in a pool of crimson blood. By his side, Sam sat with his cousins. Sam was cradling his corpse gently in his arms, sobbing as Merry hugged Pippin tightly to himself. They was crying over him. He looked back up to the woman. "No, I... this is not right... I can not... who are you?" He stammered. "I am Death." She said somberly, her eyes soft with sympathy for the Hobbit. The others were coming now. Frodo frowned watching this sight before him. "No, I have been too hasty... I can not burden another with It. Why did I not think of this before?!" It seemed so surreal as though this were a dream. He looked up to Death. "I can not do this, I was foolish. How can I leave my burden to others. Please, let me go back, let me finish."  
  
Death kneeled down to the Hobbit. "I am sorry little one, it is too late to go back. It is time we were away." Frodo back away a step, his eyes blazing. "I can not leave them. I can not hurt more people than I already have. I refuse too." "You can not stay, you must continue on. I have others to take care of little one. You shall have peace now." "Then let me stay." Frodo stood firmly in place. "Maybe I don't want to go. Maybe I'm not ready. I swear to you that I shall make amends, I shall finish my quest, then you may have me, I will go willingly but I can not leave them yet." Death sighed, raising herself to her full height. "You are tangling the plans of the world," She paused, looking intently at Frodo. It seemed as though she was looking through him, into him, beyond him. "Are you sure that this is what you want little one?" Frodo was paralyzed with doubt, but it was fleeting and left him all the more adamant of his decision. "Yes, I must do this."  
  
There was a slight burst of light as the Death place her hand upon Frodo's brow. Frodo felt as though someone had knocked the wind from him and he was falling. There was a brief, yet acute pain that struck him, then all was dark again.

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Well wasn't that fun and good times abound. You see that button there on the button, push it for reviews. I give you a hug.

Frodo: Don't do it, don't encourage her!

Bad Hobbit, back to the chair for you. grabs ropes


	3. Despair and the Kindling of Hope

Amazingly enough, this chapter is out before two years have passed. I feel that I have done well, go me! Anyway, this idea really got started on the airplane home as I listened to Into the West, so complaints can be made to Annie Lennox and US Airways... and the ocean. Complain to the ocean. Insolent arrogant FOOL of an ocean!!!  
  
**Disclaimer:** You truly are deluded if you think that I have the luck to own any of the characters, places, and so forth contained herein. If you thought that or were otherwise unsure about the standings of things, please, run off the cliff now.  
  
Song at the end is 'Mistakes we Knew we Were Making' by Straylight Run. I just thought it sort of fit in with this fiction, on either path I could have taken with Frodo. So... yeah.

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Sam had held Frodo's still body close to himself for a long while, still stroking his dark curls softly. "Come back Frodo, wake up now. Please." He begged the unmoving form, his voice quivering. Around him the others stood, staring at Sam sadly. Merry rocking Pippin gently as he cried into his shoulder. Gandalf had been taken from them so recently, it seemed a cruel twist of fate that Frodo too would leave them now. Merry buried his face into his young cousins wayward curls trying to hold back the tears that threatened to burst forth.  
  
Aragorn walked slowly over to Sam and put his hand on the Hobbit's shoulder. "Give me Frodo." His voice was quiet and painfully sad. Sam did not move, did not reply, only continued stroking his friend's hair away from his ashen face and murmur softly to him. "Come Sam, give Frodo to me." He said again. "No, it's okay. He's sleeping is all. He's going to come back. He wouldn't leave us." Sam said with a trembling voice without raising his head to Aragorn. "Frodo'll wake up and he'll be okay."  
  
Another hand rested on Sam's shoulder as Legolas joined Aragorn at his side. "We shall need to take him back to camp, Samwise. Let Aragorn but take him until we are back." Sam sniffed and rubbed at his eyes with his sleeve, still showing no sign of complying. Aragorn reached out and gently took a hold of Frodo's corpse slowly lifting it from Sam's lap. Sam's face snapped up to meet Aragorn eyes. "No, don't take him from me, don't let him leave forever." Sam cried as lost Frodo to the Ranger. "I am sorry, Sam." Aragorn dropped his eyes from Sam's pleading stare. "Come, we must return to the campsite."  
  
Aragorn held the limp Hobbit as though he would shatter. Slowly, against his will, his gray eyes were drawn to the slight form in his arms. They had wrapped his arms tightly in linen in hopes to slow the bleeding, but it was too late. They had found him too late and now Frodo was gone. _'Why Frodo? Why did you do this to yourself? Why did you do something so foolish?'_ He thought, his anger kindling against Frodo and what he had done to himself.  
  
The embers still glowed softly from the sight of the fire as the Fellowship's somber procession reached the camp. The three Hobbits sat close to the dead fire as Gimli began to stir it back to life. Each Hobbit seemed to carry the same look of reddened blank eyes. Tears still made a slow track down Pippin's cheeks as he stared into the fire. Gimli sat there too, wishing to comfort the Hobbits yet not knowing what he could say.  
  
**--AN: This is getting absurd. Nothing that has been 'dead' for so long can come back. Oh well, it's my story and I can make it as awkward and skewed as I wish. Fear me, the inaccurate author. Hmm... let's just suppose that he was still in the process of dying... you know, still breathing a bit. Just don't complain about the inaccuracies. I'm having fun writing this.--**  
  
Aragorn gently laid down the corpse of the Ringbearer on his abandoned bedroll. He sighed as he leaned back on his haunches, eyes upon the still being. Rising unto his feet, he turned away from the body and began to think of who would take the burden of the Ring. No one would be happy about that conversation, especially the Hobbits. "Damn it all." He muttered as he paced.  
  
Legolas stood silently by Frodo's body, watching the others. The Elf lowered his head, grieving for the young Hobbit that he had only know for so short of a time. There was a slight gasping breath and he lifted his head slowly. None of the others were around him or looked as though they had heard the slight breath. He looked at Frodo's body, his skin had a grey tinge to it and his lips were blue, but they were parted and Legolas did not remember them being in such a state moments ago. With his head upon the small Hobbit's chest he heard a slow, soft heart beat, but it was there. Frodo was fighting against death.  
  
"Aragorn!" He called from where he was beside Frodo. "Frodo is not dead." Upon hearing that, the Hobbits turned their heads toward Legolas. With those four words they were brought out of their grief. Merry smiled slightly. "He's not leaving us. Sam, you were right." Sam did not reply.  
  
Aragorn was with Legolas in no time, kneeling by Frodo's side checking him for a sign of life. "Impossible, he was not breathing. He was dead, I was sure of it." He said, unable to believe that Frodo could yet be clinging to life. Sure enough, though, it was there, slight, shallow breathes and a heartbeat. However weak it was, it was there and that was enough right now. A slow grin spread across his face. "Pack up, we make for Lothlorien." Aragorn took Frodo again into his arms and stood up as the others burst into sudden activity.  
  
There was a slight tug on his sleeve as they began to leave the camp. "He's going to be okay now, right? He's going to live." The voice was soft and uncertain. Aragorn looked down upon Pippin wishing he could assure the young Hobbit that his cousin would pull through. "I can not say whether he will live for certain, all I can tell you is to not lose hope for Frodo. Not yet." With that they began to make their way towards Lothlorien.  
  
--  
  
and all our sins  
come back to haunt us  
in the end  
to hang around  
and tap us on the shoulder  
and smile  
silent  
it's all implied  
you'll die trying to live this down.  
you might as well forget it. 

still, i'm convinced  
that wondering what if  
is the worst thing there is

so we bottled and shelved  
all our regrets  
let them ferment  
and came back to our senses  
drove back home  
and slept a few days  
woke up and laughed  
at how stupid we used to be  
  
all these lines fall short  
of what i had in mind  
a failed attempt  
to capsulize a feeling  
so i just try fail  
and try and try again  
someday i swear  
i'm going to get it  
  
because i'm convinced  
that giving in  
is the worst thing there is

so we bottled and shelved  
all our regrets  
let them ferment  
and came back to our senses  
drove back home  
and slept a few days  
woke up and laughed  
at how stupid we used to be

we'll get over it  
sad, strong, safe and sober  
we'll move forward  
and know where we went wrong  
but you can't go home again  
You can't go home again  
You can't go home again  
You can't go home again

so we bottled and shelved  
all our regrets  
let them ferment  
and came back to our senses  
drove back home  
and slept a few days  
woke up and laughed  
at how stupid we used to be

'Mistakes we Knew we Were Making' – Straylight Run

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Wow, that was pretty bad... erm, I apologize for that. Maybe I'll be able to fix it up a bit and then re-post it. Again, I apologize for any brain damage received will reading this chapter. Please contact a local physician immediately. 


	4. Epilogue

Epilogue

It fell as though time had slowed. The Ring spun through the air, the red glow blazing across its smooth surface. The magma was a yielding surface to land on, but the golden band sunk beneath and was unmade. The creature, Gollum, also disappeared beneath the magma, ever in pursuit of the Ring.

As the Ring hit the magma deep with the Cracks of Doom, Oroduin groaned and the rocks shuddered. The magma began rising, deep within the chasm.

There were yet two Hobbits near the crack. Blood flowed freely from the maimed right hand of the former Ringbearer. Frodo lay breathing heavily, the rocky ground beneath him digging into his dirt smeared face. A crimson pool spread beneath his hand; it would have stained the tattered shirt he wore had it not already been sullied beyond recognition.

Sam ran over to his prostrated master and lifted him into his arms. "Mr. Frodo, can you hear me?" His question was met with silence, and the figure in his arms did not move. Holding the older Hobbit tightly, Sam dashed for the opening of the chamber as the magma continued to rise within.

"Sam..." the voice that spoke was quiet, quiet and terribly strained. "Sam, I... I can see the Shire again. I... remember." Frodo whispered, each word like daggers in his parched throat. His blood fell to the ground like raindrops, trickling amongst the dust. Somehow, he felt only peace, though he could hardly sense anything beyond the pain that coursed through his battered body. Green hills and crystal rivers filled his mind, and clouds floated above. They weren't the ominous, foreboding clouds of this land; they were white, white and fluffy. Clouds you could stare at for hours as they glided through the endless blue sky.

Sam placed Frodo down with utmost care and threw himself down beside him. He was utterly drained of strength. "Well, we did it, Mr. Frodo." Without opening his eyes, Frodo answered him. "Yes, it is done." The lava began to pick up speed as it slid down the slopes of Oroduin, destroying everything in its path, yet setting the scene for life to flourish once again. Deep blue eyes opened, clear and without pain. "I'm glad you are with me, Sam, here at the end of all things." Sam smiled gently. "I wouldn'ta had it any other way." Frodo pushed his body up and embraced his dear friend. "Mayhap we shall end up in tales." He managed to say before he let himself collapse back to the ground.

The molten rock advanced upon the Hobbit's position. Sam curled himself protectively around Frodo. "Just think of the Shire now, Mr. Frodo." His hazel eyes were upon the amber clouds above them. "Just think of it. The flowers'll have bloomed by now and Bag End's garden will be filled with colour..."

Breathing was becoming more of a problem as fumes filled the air. Frodo concentrated on breathing, in, out, in, out, in. Sam was still talking; it was comforting to Frodo, the voice of his friend. The heat from the lava radiated onto him and he felt his consciousness ebbing. The wind picked up suddenly, brown and white obscured Frodo's view of the sky, the Eagles had come. As the mighty birds lifted him in their talons, Frodo gave into the darkness.

* * *

"Wake little one." A voice penetrated the haze of Frodo's mind. It was soft, kind, and vaguely familiar. Frodo opened his eyes slowly, waiting for the pain to assail him. It never came. He found himself to be in a large, ornately decorated white room. Beside him on the oversized bed lay Sam. He smiled slightly in his sleep. "Where am I?" He questioned, though it was posed to no one in particular, he seemed to be alone. "You are in Gondor, land of the Kings."

The Hobbit looked around to see where this disembodied voice was coming from. His eyes landed on a women, dressed in black, with long black hair and clear gray eyes. Death had returned to him and she was smiling at him. "Come little one, you have much to see, so much to move on to." She held out her pale hand to the small Hobbit, still smiling as her eyes sparkled. Frodo looked to Sam, still sleeping beside him, though he was no longer asleep. He kissed his friend's forehead. "Goodbye, dear Sam, you shall live a life full of mirth."

After he had done that, he took Death's hand and she lifted him from the bed. "Do not fear, you shall see your friends again." Frodo grinned. "You know, you aren't as bad as we make you out to be." Death looked into his eyes. "And you are a courageous and bold Hobbit. Long shall you live in tales." Then, she drew Frodo closer to herself. Frodo saw a bright flash of light, and the white room had faded and was gone. The thick mist that had surrounded him after the room had disappeared began to thin, and far in front of him, Frodo perceived a far green country. At last, he was truly at peace.

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Well, there you have it. This is truly the end of an era for me. I started this over two years ago when I was relatively new to fan fiction. Thanks to all of those who have reviewed and all who have read. I'm going to... sit and... try to think of a new fiction now. –begins to walk off- Now where has my muse gone to?


End file.
